It gets harder every year.

(written on a napkin
in the darkest corner
of an awkwardly dark tavern
full of awkwardly small tables
scarred with words like “faggot!”
and “heartz you”
that showed up in the paper
like the shape of a leaf
worthy of study
or the absolutely pointless dates
on a nameless headstone:)

Sometimes I forget that things exist.

No, not really.
In fact, it makes me sad.

Songs like this, mostly.
Reminds me of shit. My X
mostly.

You look like you could use
an excuse to get out of here.
Let me give you one of mine.